No Regrets
by Trollmela
Summary: "I have less than year." - "What? What did you do this time? Another deal? A curse?" - "No!" Sam is still smiling widely. "It's a brain tumor!" From Dean's expression Sam can tell that his brother has no idea why he is so freaking happy.  Slash Dean/Sam


**No Regrets**

_Disclaimer: _None of the characters are mine. I do not profit from this story.  
_Pairing: _Sam/Dean  
_Rating: _R  
**_Warnings: _incest of the brotherly kind; death-fic, dark, might be depressing;**  
_Spoilers: _general Season 5_  
Beta: _Webbswoman: _Thank you again, it's always a pleasure to work with you!_

_Summary: _"I have less than year." - "What? What did you do this time? Another deal? A curse?" - "No!" Sam is still smiling widely. "It's a brain tumor!" From Dean's expression Sam can tell that his brother has no idea why he is so freaking happy.

* * *

It feels like forever since the last time he actually, honest to God, cried. Sitting cross-legged on his motel bed, tears running down his cheeks and dripping onto his jeans is an almost foreign thing.

When Dean finds him, he still hasn't moved. The elder Winchester comes into the room, energy having given way to soul-deep weariness sometime down the road. Sam is motionless on the bed, his face downturned and bowed over the letter, but still obviously crying even as a smile dimples his face in a way Dean hasn't seen in way too long.

"What happened?"

Looking up at him, Sam answers: "I have less than year."

The shock the older Winchester can muster is only about half as much as it once would have been.

"What? What did you do this time?" The question comes out harshly. "Another deal? A curse?"

"No!" Sam is still smiling widely. "It's a _brain tumor_!"

From Dean's expression Sam can tell that his brother has no idea why he is so freaking _happy_.

* * *

Some years ago, Sam had asked Castiel whether it was true that suicides went to hell. The angel had looked at him with his usual grave face as he answered:

"I cannot answer that question for you."

"Can't or won't?" Sam had wondered.

That time, Castiel simply wouldn't answer.

Later, Sam had asked whether the angel thought he had a chance at heaven, even after everything he'd done.

"You gained entry to heaven last time. At the end, you will return there," Castiel had merely said.

Sam hadn't been so sure he agreed, but he hadn't had the energy to argue with the angel.

* * *

They eat ice-cream in Arizona. The letter with the diagnosis has been packed away. Sam would have left it, but Dean insisted on taking it. His brother is still trying to make him change his mind. He is still trying to convince him to go to a doctor or a hospital. But Sam won't. He only insisted on this one, hunting-free road trip and Dean obliged him.

The letter came to one of the mail boxes they have spread around the country, where they usually only get approved credit card applications. It was from a doctor that Sam had seen some states back. He barely even remembers the man's name. He almost sends a card.

Deep down, Dean understands Sam's reasons. They both know that there is only one other possible outcome for them: being taken out of action by the supernatural. And if you have the choice between being ripped apart by a creature and dying of a disease it's not much of a choice but one is probably a lot less bloody and might even be slightly less painful. Their road has been winding down for some time now and their chances of ever settling down have been taken away so violently that it feels as if the only peace they will ever receive lies in death.

But, as various people had so appropriately pointed out, they couldn't function without each other. Sam thinks they both had been able to at one point, when he was at Stanford and Dean was chasing the supernatural on his own. But that was a long time ago, and perhaps Dean should have stopped lying to him and admitted that it had never been perfect. It had been painful as hell – or as good as – and John had been there, which had been enough for Dean not to do anything _too _stupid.

So Sam talks to Dean, trying to make him see what options he would have once Sam isn't there anymore. To some people, some of the reasons may even have seemed plausible. Dean has given up trying to make Sam stop talking about this. He pretends he doesn't listen, but Sam knows he does.

* * *

Sam doesn't count the months. He figures that Dean probably does it for the both of them. Near the ten month mark they go to Bobby's. The old man has tears in his eyes but Sam only smiles and says what he should probably have said years ago.

The headaches have been getting worse and Sam can't handle being in the car anymore. He regrets it because the Impala had been their home.

It's evening when Sam drops off in front of the TV. Bobby has gone upstairs, while Dean stayed, but the fatigue had also caught up with him. When Sam next becomes aware, there is an old man in a suit in front of the couch, his face lined with deep furrows. Sam immediately recognizes him as a Reaper.

He reaches out with his hand, not even surprised when his body doesn't move. But, before he can make contact with the Reaper, Castiel appears, his blue eyes wide and his expression almost sad.

"I'll take him," the angel says.

The Reaper turns to him mutely. Castiel says again: "I'll take him home."

The Reaper still doesn't speak. But he looks from Castiel to Sam, and from Sam to Castiel. Dean shifts in his sleep and seems close to waking. Castiel puts two of his fingers to the elder brother's forehead and Dean stills, returning to deep sleep. The Reaper nods to Castiel and disappears. And the angel looks at Sam and says:

"Come."

Sam is glad it's Castiel. At least this way he knows where he is going.

* * *

They visit Niagara. It's raining so they get soaked both by the waterfalls and from above. They go back to the motel quickly which is where Sam says:

"Promise me there won't be any deals this time, Dean."

They're sitting each on their motel bed. Dean has his back to Sam and won't look at him. He doesn't answer.

"Dean," Sam insists. "Promise me!"

Dean can hear his brother getting up and he feels the bed sink when Sam sits down. Sam's huge hand is warm when he reaches for Dean's shoulder.

"I don't want all this crap happening to us again," he says.

"Alright." Dean's voice breaks. He's glad Sam still can't see his face.

But Sam moves over, lifts his legs to Dean's side and when Dean makes to stand and leave, Sam tightens his grip and won't let him go. Instead he clasps the back of his brother's neck and forces him to turn his head.

Dean's green eyes are practically swimming with water and there are wet trails on both of his cheeks. Sam wipes them away with his left and scoots even closer, gently touching their foreheads together.

And, while Dean is trying to see past his tears and memorize of his brother's features as much as he can, Sam's eyes are closed and there is an almost blissful expression on his face.

Dean doesn't even realize their faces are moving even closer together until their lips meet. It's soft, light, could barely be called a kiss though it so obviously _is_ one. He takes a shuddering breath, and when Sam pulls back, his older brother presses in, eager to taste.

It's new and yet familiar. Dean's lips taste like salty tears, Sam's like the coffee he drank at the Hard Rock Cafe. Sam's hands find their way to Dean's hips and slip up the older Winchester's shirt to stroke the skin of his sides.

Eventually he slides to the floor between his brother's legs. Dean doesn't look down when Sam opens his jeans. The tears finally fall when he feels Sam's mouth closing around him. It's warm and wet.

Sam thinks that if he doesn't go to hell for all of the things he has done up to now, he won't go to hell for this either.

* * *

Gabriel visits him often these days. His Father brought him back after Lucifer and Michael had ended up in the cage. The Archangel hasn't been back on earth since.

"You know, it was still the same afterwards. People didn't even know," Sam tells him.

Gabriel shrugs. "They don't. But I do."

He looks so unlike the trickster that Sam met long ago in Ohio. He doesn't look much like the Gabriel he once knew either. But that doesn't matter. They had once known each other and, while loneliness isn't something Sam feels here, he doesn't mind when Gabriel comes to hang out. Castiel is the only other visitor and for that Sam is grateful.

They've both changed, Gabriel and Sam. They rarely talk about the 'old days' and for this, too, Sam is grateful. Sam has long stopped blaming Gabriel for anything. Perhaps he has finally made his peace with the archangel; perhaps he feels that Gabriel redeemed himself in the Elysian Fields Hotel; or perhaps heaven is simply no place for negative emotion, which is just fine with Sam.

It's curious though that Sam has finally found his peace, his soul has finally been stripped of all sadness and depression while for Gabriel this doesn't seem to be the case at all.

* * *

Sam's heaven is like a beach. It looks exactly like the one in Palo Alto, save that the noise from the airport is missing. There is also a park and Sam likes to walk the paths there or run straight over the lawn. It's not like a policeman would come up and tell him it was forbidden to step on the lawn. The sun always shines brightly like on the day he first met Jess. He finds that he doesn't miss her.

There is nobody with him and he doesn't relive any memories. Sometimes, he remembers Dean and wonders what he is doing these days. Then he will try to imagine where they would put the Impala once Dean is here. Because Sam knows he will share this heaven with Dean, just like Ash said. He doesn't even need Gabriel's sledgehammer comments or Castiel's awkward hints to tell him that.

* * *

Sam doesn't know how much time has passed until Castiel shows up with Dean. His brother looks younger than the last time they saw each other. It's the first time Sam wonders what he looks like here.

He can't tell whether Dean's appearance has anything to do with a younger physical age or simply the fact that his lines of worry are gone. They were never skin-deep those worry lines, but Sam had always been able to see them nonetheless. He thinks he probably had some too.

Sam can't remember being unhappy anymore. But he can't remember being as happy as he is now either. He runs to meet Dean, and, when they meet, they wrap their arms around each other and Dean breathes something like a sigh. The feeling in Sam's heart feels bright and pure, and he knows Dean is feeling the same. They know that the feeling is love of the purest kind. It's more than either of them have been capable of for a long time, if ever.

When they break apart, Castiel is gone but Sam is not worried. The angel would be back at another time. Sam tugs at his brother's hand, eager to show him their heaven. He knows he is behaving like a child, but that is alright. Up here there are no regrets.

* * *

**_Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it. Comments are always appreciated._**


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